American Old Time Song Lyrics: 11 Jock O Hazeldean

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 11

JOCK O' HAZELDEAN.

Why weep ye by the tyde, ladye?
Why weep ye by the tyde?
I'll wed ye to my youngest son,
And ye shall be his bride;
And ye shall be his bride, ladye,
So comely to be seen;
But, ay, she loot the tears down fa'
For "Jock o' Hazeldean.

Now let this wilfu' grief be done,
And dry that cheek so pale;
Young Frank is chief of Errington,
And lord of Langley Dale;
His step is first in peaceful ha'.
His sword in battle keen;
But, ay, she loot the tears down fa',
For Jock o' Hazeldean.

A chain of gold ye shall not lack.
Nor braid to bind your hair;
Nor mettled hound, nor managed bawl,
Nor palfrey fresh and fair;
And you. the foremost o' them a'.
Shall ride our forest queen;
But, ay, she loot the tears down fa',
For Jock o' Hazeldean.